


mama, i'm in love with a criminal

by lieb3



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Don't quote me on that, Everyone Is Gay, Gangs, Guns, Idiots in Love, M/M, Violence, im awful at tags, injuries, maybe smut later?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-08 11:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15242847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieb3/pseuds/lieb3
Summary: The BBS is a feared gang, and Jonathan gets tied up in it. He falls for someone he's not supposed to, and that could cause something awful.





	1. I

Jonathan wasn’t sure how his life led up to this moment in time.

 

He had a decent childhood; went to a public school like almost every other poor child in the area, father left when he was young. Maybe it was knowing _why_ exactly his old man left, got involved with gangs, much like how Jon was living now. When he turned eighteen, he knew he and his mother couldn’t support themselves anymore, so he left. He went off to live on his own, and got involved in the same illegal activities that his father did.

 

It could have been his whole life, or just one small decision, but the one thing he knew for sure was that he was in constant danger. The booming sound of gunshots currently reverberating off the walls of the box-filled warehouse could point clearly to that.

 

Jon, who went under the alias _Delirious_ and wore a painted hockey mask, wasn’t part of any gang, but people definitely knew who he was. He would help out his allies and put a bullet into whoever they asked him to. If they weren’t an ally, they were unquestionably trying to shoot him dead, just like they are now.

 

He assessed the situation; three men, one with a revolver and two with shotguns. Jon clutched tightly onto the grip of his pistol, put-off by the fact that he didn’t have, nor could use his sniper in this situation. Slowly getting up from his squatting position, he ran as fast as he could to the entrance of the large building. He shot as he went, getting one in the shoulder, another in the midsection, and his last two flew right past the last man. Jon cursed at himself, adjusting his mask as he continued to run and avoid shots from the only uninjured man left. This wasn’t an expected attack, he was settling there for the night because he didn’t have anywhere else to go and it’s been days since he slept over an hour. His car, which was sitting outside, held his bigger guns, and he regretted not bringing them with him. After a bullet flew into his right calf from the back, he knew he was supremely fucked.

 

The masked man tripped over his leg, tumbling to the ground ungracefully. His enemy gained on him, a smirk on his lips as he approached Jonathan slowly, wanting to take his time with this kill. This would be a big one, Jonathan was one of the most wanted people throughout all the gangs in the area. He was whispering profanities under his breath, watching the blood ooze out from his leg to create a red puddle on the ground. He refused to look up at the man, knowing that there was no way he could get out of this, not this time. When he felt his gun slid away, and now it was too late to try and crawl to it, the male would just shoot him dead.

 

“The famous Delirious, bleeding out and unarmed on the ground? Why, this is just _priceless_!” The man laughed, standing over Jon. “Maybe, since you’re going to be dead anyways, we take this piece of plastic off from over your face. Expose your dead body for anyone to find, for anyone to see your so-famously hidden face.”

 

As he reached down, fingers sitting just under his mask, knuckles brushing Jon’s face, he heard a shot ring out and watched as the man fell onto the ground, thick red blood pooling around his head. He let out a breath of relief, momentarily forgetting the pain in his leg as he attempted to stand up and look for the person who shot him. Jonathan squinted in the darkness, seeing a figure coming closer and closer to him. From the faint lights of the warehouse, he observed that the shadow was, indeed, a man, and was wearing an older style pair of 3-D glasses, the rims plastic and the lense red while the other was blue. Odd, but he couldn’t judge considering the fact that he didn’t even take his mask off to go to sleep.

 

“Thank you.” Jonathan said to the man as he got closer, deciding he should let the man introduce himself only if he wanted to.

 

“I’ll always help someone out, as long as they’re not an enemy. Delirious, right? Everyone calls me Smitty.” The man, Smitty, reached his hand out.

 

Smitty - he knew the name. He was part of the BBS, a gang he has yet to have any interaction with. He wasn’t surprised that he knew who he was, almost everyone did. Knew to watch out for him unless they had him doing a job for them. The BBS was a big-time gang, one of the deadliest the town had ever seen. There was a twist with them, though. If you looked past the kills, they were doing good for the city. They tried to stop smugglers, killed people who did true crime. Almost every gang despised them, but knew not to mess with them, because although many tried, they’ve all failed. The leaders were two men, one going by Vanoss, and the other CaRtOoNz.

 

Jon put all his weight onto one leg and tried to stand correctly, reaching his hand out to shake Smitty’s. The shorter of the two noticed the blood staining his jeans, eyes widening slightly. “Hey, I can take you back with me to the base to get that cleaned up. You’ve gotta let me, that looks like it’s getting bad. Do you have a car? I can drive us there, how’s that? I walked he-”

 

The masked man decided to interrupt the other, knowing he’d probably continue to ramble on and on about it. “I would appreciate it, thanks.” He didn’t have any supplies left in his car for injuries anymore, used the last of it the week beforehand. Although he knew some of the people there would not be as kind to him as Smitty was being, and would likely cause a fit about him being there, he was already feeling dizzy from the untreated wound.

 

Jon turned and gestured for Smitty to follow him, limping to where he had parked the car. It was a bit farther than the warehouse, he knew to take precautions when it came to his weapons and files. Once getting there, he checked the trunk to make sure everything was still there, and then threw the keys to Smitty.

 

“You better be a quick driver.”


	2. II

Jonathan must have passed out sometime during the ride without realizing, because by the time he opened his eyes they were already there and the man in the driver’s side of the car was swatting at his arm with a worried look taking over his features. His head felt like it was filled up with air, and his vision was a bit blurry. During the beginning of the car ride, Smitty had instructed that he use an old sweatshirt that sat in the back of the car to put pressure on the wound (as if he hadn’t already knew to do it), but he must have let go of it some time between his eyes closing for the first time and waking up now. When he sat up, Smitty let out a sigh of relief, claiming he’d worried him. Passing out worried him? He seemed like he was too nice to be in such a vicious gang. 

 

The masked man looked out the dirty window of his old car, inspecting the place they were about to enter. It was large, seemed like it was an abandoned hotel of sorts. Multiple floors, but not big enough for more than the amount of people in the gang to stay. Jon hummed, “Are you sure it’ll be safe for me to go in there? I wouldn’t want your friends pointing every weapon they have on me if they think I mean any harm.”

 

“Trust me, once they see I’m with you and that you’re injured, they’d be happy to help you out. After all, you haven’t had any intention of harming any of us in the past, so why would you now? Wouldn’t make sense, considering I found you without you being in the middle of a job.” 

 

Jon nodded - it seemed like a logical enough answer. He pulled at the door handle, pushing the squeaky door open. He winced as he got out, clenching his jaw at the pain that shot through his leg. The bullet had to still be in there, and he hoped someone in there at least had some medical knowledge and he wouldn’t be letting someone go into his calf without knowing how to even properly sterilize the equipment. Smitty got out after him, offering some help walking, which he politely declined. He was a big boy, he could do it himself, as much as a part of his brain was scolding him for thinking he could deal with the pain. He limped behind Smitty to the door, the man pushing up his glasses to look around and make sure nobody was watching as they entered, and opened the door once deeming it safe enough.

 

As soon as the two of them stepped into the building, all the eyes of the people in that specific room shot over to eye Jonathan; they recognized him, of course, with his reputation. He scanned the room, knowing exactly who was who. In the doorway to what seemed to be the kitchen area stood a man who went by the name Ohm, the man easily identifiable by the cloth wrapped over his eyes. Must be made by some sort of fiber he could see through but nobody could see into. The next person he saw was one of the gang leaders, harsh eyes burning into him. CaRtOoNz; a name he never really understood, but wouldn’t judge. Someone sat on the couch, head craned to look over at him and Smitty. His eyes seemed to soften at the sight of the boy ahead of him, but narrowed when he set his eyes on the masked man. Likely Kryoz, one of the few hackers, but could also be Brock. One of the few that actually went by their name. Those three were the only others in the spacious room, and nobody dared make a sound until CaRtOoNz grunted.

 

“Delirious. Smit, why would you bring him here? You know this is dangerous.” The man scolded, a scowl written upon his features. Upon further inspection, he saw his bloodied leg, and turned his head to Ohm. He sighed, “Go fetch Brock. I have no choice but to assume he needs some immediate medical attention.” The brunet turned to go quickly. His eyes travelled back to Smitty, “You and I are having a chat about this after.” This made Smitty gulp, but he led Jon to the couch, where the man sat, and then went to go sit next to who he now knew was Kryoz. 

 

Ohm returned one awkwardly silent minute later, with who he assumed was Brock following in his trail, a box, which was likely filled with medical supplies, in his hands. The leader gestured to Jon, and Brock got to working quickly after figuring out where exactly the blood was coming from and how far deep the bullet was wedged. CaRtOoNz then walked over to them, glaring down at Jon. 

 

“I expect that you won’t disclose our location to anyone, if you even do know where we are. I have to speak with Vanoss about you.” It seemed as if he were contemplating asking something, but held his tongue. “I want to hear the entire story from you, in the meantime. Smitty doesn’t know the whole thing, and I still don’t know if this whole thing is a set up.” He understood that - he could have faked the whole thing just to be able to get into their base, but that would have to be perfectly timed to Smitty walking near the area, and was unlikely. 

 

“I needed somewhere to-” Jonathan hissed in pain, “somewhere to rest. I didn’t have a job and sleeping in my car was dangerous. Someone must have saw me entering the warehouse that Smitty found me outside of, because I had three men on me. I shot two of them, and then got knocked down by the other. Lost my gun when I fell, and I would be dead if he hadn’t hesitated and tried to get my mask off. Smitty got there just in time. Does that seem legit enough to you?” He growled, voice low. He knew he shouldn’t speak like that, but he didn’t like people doubting him.

 

He heard Brock whisper a quiet ‘got it,’ before he felt something being pulled out of his wound. Now that the bullet was out, Brock could begin stitching up the wound. 

 

The present leader grunted, “I have to speak with Vanoss, and you have to stay here in the meantime. Don’t even try leaving.” He left at that, likely going up to find his partner.

  
Jonathan knew that this was going to be a  _ long _ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this is a whole trainwreck, but it's okay. I hope you all enjoyed it! I honestly don't completely know where I'm going with this story, I'm slightly making it up as I go, but I hope you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!


	3. III

Jonathan was right.

The night just dragged on after Brock had finished up stitching the bullet wound, gauze and a bandaid wrapped delicately around the fresh injury.

It seemed like Vanoss and CaRtOoNz were both raising their voices upstairs, probably yelling at Smitty - who they had called up a little while ago - for bringing him here in the first place. He wanted to go up the stairs, tell them that the poor boy had done nothing wrong and try to assure them that he would never do harm to people who helped with his wound. He sighed, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted. Jon tried listening to the conversation, but most of it was muffled through the floors. It didn't seem like it was going well at all.

After about an hour, maybe two, all three of them came downstairs, every other person who was awake and wasn't already there trailing behind them. What was this, some sort of meeting? Couldn't he just go on his merry way without any more issues?

Jonathan sat up straight, turning to look at everyone. "Am I free to go, your highness?" He asked sarcastically, his southern accent lacing his voice.

CaRtOoNz scowled at that, mumbling something to Vanoss. It looked like he said something along the lines of _are you sure you want to keep this douche?_ but he couldn't have been sure. The other man mumbled something back, harshly, before stepping forwards towards the couch. 

"We have an offer for you. We expect you won't decline." Vanoss hummed. Jon eyed the man, taking in his features. He hadn't expected him to look like that, but, then again, he didn't know many of these people's faces. "We want you to.. to join the BBS. We chatted with Smitty, knew neither he or you meant any harm, and then chatted with most everyone else. It would be beneficial to have someone like you on our side."

Jonathan didn't know what to say. He expected them to just kick him to the curb, maybe kill him to make sure he kept his mouth shut, not this. He had so many enemies; even if he wanted to join, it would make things worse for everyone else in the long run.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I do have to decline your offer. Although I appreciate it, it's risky. Everyone who has been after me will be after you; I don't think any of you want that. I'm tied up with very, very dangerous people." He tried to explain, adjusting his mask. He was constantly adjusting it, paranoid it might come loose or something. He usually had face paint under, just in case, but he plans on never showing his face.

Vanoss scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "I'm almost one hundred percent sure you're dealing with the same people we are. It might help you out, too. It's a win-win situation, Delirious. This is a one time offer, one of the rarest. We might have to shoot you, if you decline again, though. We can't risk having out information leaked." He teased, raising an eyebrow. Although his tone was joking, he could tell they probably were planning on it. Especially the one in the back, who seemed to be glaring at him. Could that be Wildcat? Probably.

Jonathan thought about it for a few moments. It would likely help him out, having people nearby and a place to sleep. Plus, he'd rather not choose to let one of these men put a bullet through his forehead.

"Alright, fine," Delirious mumbled, trying to stand up. "Think I could maybe have a room in this huge place, then? I'm no help at all if I'm exhausted, and I should be elevating my leg." He gestured to it, looking at Smitty. He looked happy with Jon's decision. He'd have to thank him later, it was probably him who brought up Jon joining in the first place. 

"You'll be staying in the room in the middle of mine and Brian's. He's asleep at the moment, but you'll meet him soon enough. It's pretty late, Smit, will you show him where his room is?" Vanoss turned his head to look at the boy, who nodded quickly. 

"Yeah! C'mon, Delirious." He gestured for him to follow behind, before realizing he probably needed help. Jon didn't bother fighting it this time, letting Smitty put his arm under his own to assist him in walking. Luckily, there were only two painful flights of stairs, and Smitty opened the door to the room. It was bare, with a bed settled right in the middle. The sheets on it were black, which would likely be warmer in the winter times. 

The masked man thanked Smitty, who left directly to give him his privacy and to get settled a bit on his own. He closed and locked the door, pulling the curtains over the small window in the corner, which he locked as well. He just wanted to sleep for once, without his mask. Jon had no clothes or anything comfortable to change into either, so he would just have to deal with his rough, dirty jeans for today. He'd have to go to his car for his extra clothes. 

Jon adjusted his blue sweatshirt, taking a deep breath, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. A full-length mirror was leaning against the wall in front of him, and he stared at his reflection. How could he have gotten himself into this? Almost ten years of the same shit over and over. He just wished he could get a break. Hopefully, being here would be good for him. As much as he always tried to avoid life or death situations, sometimes he just wished all of this could be over. 

His hand reached up to grab his mask, his other hand going to the back of his head to loosen the buckles that made it so it wouldn't fall off easily. Jon pulled it off slowly, staring at his face, nose wrinkled up at the sight of himself. Almost all the paint had rubbed off. He had bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken in. If one of his friends from years ago saw him like this, they wouldn't realize it was Delirious until they saw the thin, but very visible, scar than ran from the bottom of his eye down to his chin, it must have taken a sharp turn somewhere along the way. He dropped his mask to the ground lazily, toeing off his shoes and getting under the covers. He'd have to worry about someone picking the lock in the morning if it happened, right now he just wanted to sleep.


	4. IIII

Jonathan was awoken by a light knock on his door, his eyes shooting open. It took him a few seconds to process where he actually was, and he sighed in relief once he did. “Just a minute!” He shouted, glad they knocked rather than just barging in. He wasn’t ready to show his face to anyone yet, he probably never would be. The boy reached down and grabbed his mask off the floor, putting it over his head and buckling the back tight enough. Jon limped over to the door afterward, opening it to see Vanoss standing outside, his hands in his pockets. 

 

“Morning. Thought I’d come up to get you for breakfast; Ohm’s making it right now.” He told him casually, as the masked one of the two tried to flatten out his bed head. 

 

“I’ll go now, then. Thanks for waking me, I likely would have slept till noon.” Jon chuckled awkwardly, while Vanoss simply nodded and turned away to probably go back downstairs with the others. 

 

The man sighed, closing the door and going over to the mirror to look at himself. He really needed to go to his car and get a fresh pair of clothes, but he knew he’d have to pass everyone looking like this. Surely they'd understand why exactly he looked like such a mess, and it wasn't like he was going anywhere with his leg all fucked like that, but he just felt uncomfortable wearing these things. He wasn't even completely sure if he had clean clothes in the trunk either way, so his only option now instead of embarrassing himself was to maybe ask someone for clothing. 

 

Delirious walked back over to the door and exited his room, looking up and down the hallway. He couldn't ask Smitty for a change of clothes, because he didn't know where his room was and his clothes would likely be too small on him, considering the boy's height compared to his own. There weren't many other people he knew either, and he wasn't just going to ask one of the gang leaders for a spare change of clothes, that'd just seem pathetic. 

 

His only option now was Ohm, and although the man was quite a bit taller than him, big clothes were better than short ones. He'd have to wait for him to finish cooking, but he could go ask without an issue now. Jonathan was getting a bit hungry, anyways. 

 

After figuring out what he wanted to do about his outfit, he slowly went down the stairs, being as careful as he could with his leg so he wouldn't give himself more pain than what was already there. Jon knew where the kitchen was since he saw it when he'd first entered, so he really had no issue getting there without detouring. Entering the kitchen area, he was met with the strong scent of eggs and bacon. Ohm was likely making a big portion of both so everyone could help themselves; that breakfast was the cheapest option since you'd have to keep buying cereal because there were so many people living there. 

 

Upon entering the kitchen, he was only greeted by Ohm and Smitty, which made sense considering most of the other people sat in there hadn't met him yet. It seemed as if Ohm had just finished up with breakfast because he was already moving to place the containers filled with the food onto the table and go to sit down next to Smitty. The only open place was between Vanoss and Ohm, which was good for Jon because he still needed to ask for an outfit. Sitting next to the taller man quietly, he tapped his shoulder to get his attention. 

 

The others were talking amongst themselves, so nobody would really hear him ask. “I was wondering if I could borrow something to wear? My clothes are all messed up, and all the extras that I keep in my car are all bloodied up.” Jonathan hoped it wasn't too much to ask, but when he got a nod and a smile from Ohm, he immediately relaxed. With that, he began eating the breakfast sat in the middle of the rickety table. 

 

…

 

After breakfast was over, Ohm had led him upstairs to his room. Jon had worked about his dish, thinking he should probably wash his own, but the other man assured him that it was Bryce’s turn to do the dishes. 

 

“You can sit on the bed while I find some clothes that might fit you,” Ohm told him, and he did just that. “About your clothes, we do our own laundry, so whenever you want to, you can head down to the basement to do that.” He explained, humming in satisfaction when he found some jeans and a t-shirt that would be fine on Jonathan. 

 

Ohm handed them to the boy, offering a slight smile. “Y’know, we're all the same here. Cartoonz isn't good with people he doesn’t trust, so he acts all big and tough, but he’s a big softie. Just like everyone else. Like you, like Vanoss. Don't worry too much about them, yeah?” He patted Jon’s back when he stood up, leading him out of the room and shutting the door after waving and telling him a polite ‘see ya later.’

 

Jon headed up to his room to change and felt a bit better. He pulled on his sweater, zipping it up, and adjusting his mask on his face. He cuffed up the jeans a little bit so they didn't go under his scuffed up black vans, and pulled up his sleeves as well. The clothes were only a little bit baggy, and all in all, it wasn't a big problem at all. He reminded himself to thank Ohm for the outfit later, but for now, he gathered his clothes in his hands and headed out to his car to get the rest of them. Might as well get everything done now. 

 

He entered the building as quietly as he could when he came back in, trying not to attract too much attention to himself, and quickly found his way down the stairs into the basement. There were a few old, rusty washer and dryers, and he quickly piled up his few garments of clothes into a washing machine, putting in everything that it needed and started it. Jon had nothing to do for the rest of the day, either, so he thought rather than conversing with anyone, he should just stay down there and wait for his clothes. 

 

Jonathan stared at the washing machine for about twenty minutes, playing with his nails and letting the loud sound from it fill his ears before he felt someone tap on his shoulder. Startled, he jumped a bit and quickly looked back, ready to strike if it was an attacker. 

 

It was just Vanoss, but that didn't make him any less frightened. 

 

He heard the man chuckle. “Sorry if I scared you. Saw ya come down here and never come back up, wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything sketchy, because, well, who waits for their laundry? But, I guess people do entertain themselves in any way they can.” Vanoss rambled on, leaning against a dryer next to where he was standing. 

 

“I don't think anyone here besides Smitty and Ohm can tolerate me much yet. I thought it might be better to stay down here rather than go up there and disrupt anyone from what they usually do.” Delirious shrugged, crossing his arms. He wondered why Vanoss would come alone if he thought Jon was up to something, so he thought that maybe he was joking. Vanoss looked Jon up and down, eyes settling on where his wound was. 

 

“You should have Brock clean that. It could still get infected.” The man pointed out, sucking in his cheek. “C’mon, it'll be a while before that's finished. Brock’s with Brian, they're not doing anything. Besides, might be nice to meet your other room-neighbor, you'll be able to complain when he and Brock are being too loud.” Jon wondered what exactly that meant, but didn't ponder on it for too long as Vanoss began walking away. He limped behind him, quietly. 

 

As soon as they got up the flight of stairs, Vanoss called down Brock and gestured for him to go sit on the couch like he did last night. He quickly obeyed, hearing two sets of feet stumble down the stairs not even five minutes later. Jon turned his head to look at who they were, one being Brock and the other who he had no choice but to assume was Brian. Vanoss explained to Brock that he needed his bandages switched out, and the taller man nodded, coming over. 

 

“Sorry, I know you were probably enjoying some time with him. Vanoss insisted.” Jonathan quickly apologized, biting the inside of his cheek. 

 

“It's no problem! I understand why he doesn't want this infected. Can't have the newest member of our team losing a limb, now can we?” Brock joked, winking at him before beginning to carefully change out the bandages. 

 

Maybe these people didn't hate him all that much after all. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I died for a while, I had some writer's block and I've been hella busy. I'm trying my best to write stuff, and it seems really forced and rushed whenever I do it within a day, so I've been trying to take my time ig. This one took days lmao oops but uhhh I hope you enjoy it !!!


	5. V

It seemed like Jonathan must have been daydreaming for twenty minutes because once he heard Brock saying his name, he’d already said his name two or so times and his leg was completely bandaged. Smiling, he apologized for staring off and thanked him for treating his leg. The sweet boy simply smiled at him, before plopping down on the couch next to Brian, who was sat beside Jon.

 

He watched as Brock laid his head down in Brian’s lap, the latter running his hand through his hair. Jon must’ve been staring for too long, or Brian just kept seeing him when he did glance over because he was turning his head to him and asking him one question.

 

“Is there a problem with this?” Brian was quite obviously trying to make it clear with his tone of voice that there shouldn’t be a problem, and there would likely be an issue if there was. Jon has never shaken his head so fast.

 

“No! No, of course, there isn’t. I.. I prefer boys, actually. Sorry I kept looking.” It was just hard for Jonathan to wrap his head around how they could be so unbothered and, seemingly, in love. Weren’t they scared? Was it really worth getting so close to someone just to have them taken away from you before you even hear the sound of the bullet ripple through the air? He didn’t understand. Love was precious, Jon knew that, of course. His mum always told him to be careful when he was younger. But, he had never seen or experienced  _ real  _ love. His parents weren’t in love, no. That’s why his mother always warned him about it. And being involved in something so dangerous? It was terrifying, and he wasn't even the one who got into the relationship. 

 

Now, Jonathan was delving into his own mind. 

 

He knew what love was, he had a friend describe it to him one day while they were hiding out. She was shot and killed an hour later. She said it wasn't necessarily warm. Not every relationship was picture-perfect and happy and cheesy like the rom-com you'd watch with your mother when you were a child. Everyone had a different feeling from it. She used a color to describe her own; fuchsia. Deep, yet bright at the same time. There was always the underlying nervousness and worry, but at the end of the day  _ they were in love _ , and nothing could change that fact.  _ That _ was what Jon was scared of. He was scared of finding peace in someone who really understood what was going on in his life because although they'd be prepared, it'd just make them feel worse knowing they could have prevented that situation by just keeping them home for a little while longer. 

 

After that friend, he swore to himself to not get close enough to anyone. Even though there was a low probability of him really falling in love with that person, it was still a scary thought to have someone so close to you taken away. 

 

Jonathan was snapped out of his thoughts, quite literally. Brian had his hand in front of his face, saying his name and snapping his fingers. 

 

“Sorry, man. Lost in my head, you know?” He apologized quickly, and the other man waved it off. Delirious looked down slightly, Brock fast asleep in Brian's lap. A dangerous situation, but a cute couple, nonetheless. 

 

“It's alright. Somethin’ bothering ya?” It was now, as he was paying closer attention, that he could tell Brian had a thick Irish accent, or maybe some other one in that area. 

 

“Not necessarily. Hey, do you think I could ask you sort of a.. personal question? Nothing to invade your privacy, you probably don't trust me enough with much information, this is just a simple, sorta deep one.” Jonathan realized he was babbling an explanation when he didn't need one; Brian seemed happy to answer with a slight smile on his face. He took a breath, “You and Brock. I assume you're.. together?” A nod from the Irishman. “Is love really worth the pain you go through? Anyone of the people here could just be shot dead in an instant.”

 

Brian pursed his lips, thinking about how to word it. “It's difficult, sure, but we understand. We understand how it is to work under these conditions. It took me months to figure out what it was that I was feeling, and once R- _ Ohm _ , helped me out, I was fucking terrified. I told him right away, though. We talked it out, thought we'd give it a try. Now we're going on four years. In the beginning, we thought that maybe it wasn't worth it- but one look into his eyes and it felt like I melted into a puddle of mush. Which is fucking cheesy, I know, but I'm a huge softie for this boy. Not everyone feels the same way when they're in love, though. Simple touches from one’s partner are addictive, trust me. A good cuddle after a stressful day of shooting a place up? God, amazing.” Brian cut himself off when he realized he was rambling about it. “To be simple about it, yes. Once you find the one, it's worth it.”

 

Jonathan listened intently, grinding his teeth against one another as he thought. Maybe falling in love wouldn't be so bad after all. 

 

After thanking Brian for sharing his thoughts, he decided to head back downstairs to grab his clothes and move them from the washing machine to the dryer, since they were done. Adjusting the cost he had on, he stuck his thumbs through the holes he made a while back at the end of the sleeve of the sweatshirt, going back upstairs to his room. Before entering, he noticed Vanoss’ door open, just a crack, but enough for him to be able to see the man sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to check on the poor guy? He was probably stressed.

 

Jonathan thought about it for a little while longer, before ultimately deciding against it. They didn't know each other all that well, and the whole conversation might have that undertone of awkwardness that was always the worst when having a deeper conversation with someone you didn't know well. He sighed, twisting the doorknob of his own room and entering, closing the door behind him before he sat down on the end of the bed. All that thinking really got him worried; what if he did fall in love?  _ What if he fell in love with someone else in the gang?  _ Would they kick him out, considering they didn't know anything about him? 

 

Just thinking about it made him feel sick to the stomach, but he would get through it. He always got through it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this one is kind of short. and sorry I don't update often. I find it's easier for me to write when I've taken some time to think about what I want to put in the chapter and how I wanna word stuff


	6. a break

hi, everyone (:

im gonna get straight to the point here, yeah?

basically, school is starting soon and the transition from one school to another is really stressful right now, but will get easier as time goes on. because of how busy im going to be, ill be putting this story on a little hiatus. 

i know ive already been gone for a week, maybe more, but that's simply because my computer has been broken and ive been on vacation.

another reason, is im just genuinely not happy with mt writing or how this story is progressing. i have a plan for what i want to do with it, i have esch chapter planned, but homestly it's not meant to be centered around jonathans feelings for evan, and i think thats how its going on to be. 

until i can figure out what i really esnt to hsppen and until i can get at least a few chapters written that i like, i probably won't be posting anymore chapters for this.

im not leaving it forever, hopefully just until i get settled in school and im not so busy.

i probably will post little one shots here and there though, possibly not all the BBS, probably some 5sos mixed in there.

for now, i bid you farewell. 

// Paige.

follow me in the meantime (;

@pejmckenzie / twitter

**Author's Note:**

> peep this was originally called Why? but is now names after a britney spears song ur welcome


End file.
